Memoirs of a Witch
by CrystalStorm824
Summary: Ultimecia recounts certain events in Dissidia alongside memories from her past.
1. Birth

Out from the endless, black void, I found myself in a world of darkness and flame. Smoke filled the air, and the barren ground was blanketed in white ash. Red volcanoes glowed in the distance, shooting fire and soot into the sky of a dying land. It was a place destroyed by endless battle, and it still exhibited the ancient remains of fallen civilizations.

To this hellish world, I had been summoned. Reborn into this foreign world as a child of darkness, to fight for the god of discord, Chaos. One of the sole, sentient inhabitants of this depressing realm, he was a large, devil-like creature with both the features of a man and of a beast, a fitting deity for the forces of the dark.

I was the eighth soldier to be ripped from my home world by the god. There were ten of us in all, and as we stood before Chaos' twisted throne of skulls, I observed them. The three faceless fools in armor, a listless wraith, a mad harlequin, a soldier fallen from grace, a temperamental bard, a bulky simpleton, and a tyrannical king, who was more like myself, than either of us desired to admit.

It was this calculating ruler, who immediately caught my eye. The Emperor and myself were the exception to the others, who were solely obsessed with destruction in some form or another and easily manipulated into the merciless battles set before them, despite being stripped of their native worlds and memories.

The Emperor desired control and power over the others, labeling the majority of the Chaos warriors as witless 'destroyers'. I, too, wanted the broken world for myself. Not to destroy and not to rule, either, or at least, not in the same respect as the Emperor.

I wished for a timeless world of isolation. A living tomb for myself and all those around me, where I would be feared and adored for all eternity. I had a dream, an ambition to fulfill, and unlike the others, I would not be so easily enslaved by this arrogant and assuming god.

The gleam of fire glittered in my predatory, gold eyes, as I received my first orders from Chaos. Realizing that none of us, even together, would be a match for the deity, I decided to bide my time and wait for an opportunity to arise, while pretending to be an obedient servant. It was this sense of defiance that immediately drew me to the Emperor and his schemes, for he, as well, was not satisfied with being merely a pawn.

It was the birth of a fragile alliance and the instigation of countless battles, that would determine the struggle to wrest the reigns of control away from the gods of harmony and discord. This world would be ours, and then, after a few more necessary eliminations, it would be _mine_.

It was always apparent to me, that to be born was to be in agony, even in this new world. Looking upon all the warriors of discord, these dark souls twisted and tormented in their own worlds of origin, was a reminder that the meaning of life was to endure an endless cycle of disappointment and pain, and the same was true for my own existence.

The spark of my life began long ago in a faraway world, veiled from this one by the countless other dimensions within the endless void. My birthplace and home was near the ocean. Cape Hope was what they called it, but for me, it was a cape of despair.

Once long ago, it had been the childhood home for a group of heroes, who saved the world from an evil sorceress, though when I was born, the only structure left from that time was the lighthouse, standing high upon the ocean-side cliff. After the ancient war, my ancestors, Squall and Rinoa, had built their home from the ruins that had once been an orphanage. Yes, you read correctly. That _boy_ , my most bitter enemy, is, in fact, my distant relative. My father, their descendant, had inherited the manner, through his lineage, but his honor was but a shadow of what theirs had been.

He was a greedy weasel of a man, hungry for power and recognition for accomplishments that were not his own, and my mother was no better. She was superficial and petty, caring only for the value of 'things' and titles.

The start of my life was long anticipated, for they had tried, for years, to conceive, but as I emerged into the world, I was an immediate disappointment. They had wished and prayed for a son, someone to carry on the family name, but instead, they received me.

Shunned by those, who should have loved me, from the moment I took my first breath, my existence was unwanted, and in that hatred, I grew, absorbing the darkness, like a seed does water, though for a time, I did attempt to cling to the light.

As a young girl, in the spring of my youth, I was fearful and awkward. I excelled academically but was still an outcast to my family and peers. Persecuted for my glasses and unfortunate speech impediment, I was friendless, and in order to fill the void left by isolation, I turned to the only activity that afforded me some measure of happiness.

Every evening after school, I would journey to the ancient lighthouse, just as the setting sun was painting the world in the colors of twilight. With my worn easel and set of paints, I would sit and let my mind soar high above the lavender and apricot sky, until all color was gone from the world and the twinkle of stars and the silver light of the moon spread across the velvet blackness. It was in this silent sphere of darkness that my ideal world was born.

So alone, I waited, knowing that no one at 'home' would anticipate my return. I was comforted only by my solitude, while dreaming of the day, when power would find me, power enough to realize my ultimate dream.


	2. Love

_Love_... For me, it only existed in some memory, long ago, before my mind was tainted by the realities and ugliness of the world. Love was but a fleeting, childish dream, that would eventually fade, like stars into the dawn, yet its unfortunate allure tempted all into its fragile web, at some point in their lives.

Within the dead and chaotic world of the gods, two warriors, obviously infected by love's taint, had captured my attention. A boy of discord and a girl of harmony, separated by amnesia and placed on opposite sides in this latest cycle of war. It was a simple matter to realize they were of the same world.

I had met the boy, _Tidus_ , on several occasions. He was a foolish, dull-minded youth that harbored a bitter rage for his absentee father. Useless as a warrior of discord, he was only allowed to handle minor tasks, on behalf of Chaos and other high ranking warriors of disorder.

The girl, a summoner, was one of the more skilled fighters of harmony and traveled with the boy's father, Jecht, who acted as her protector.

As part of some new scheme, the Emperor had revealed Jecht's location to the boy, baiting him to go and battle his own flesh and blood, which he did, leaving behind a trail for us to follow.

Tracing behind the Emperor, who had gone ahead to observe them, in order to ensure his latest plot's success, I curiously watched, from my hidden perch, the brief reunion of the two lovers, fighting against each other, in the war between the gods.

The summoner had bravely stepped between the boy and his father, about to do battle, pleading for the boy to forget his rage and join them, as a warrior of harmony. It was plain to see her words had awakened something deep within him. Perhaps it was long forgotten memories of another world, where they had been together.

Apparently, the Emperor was not moved by the girl's undying love for the boy. Her unanticipated interference had angered him. Revealing himself, from the shadows, before anymore could be said, he cast a flare spell, with the intent to kill her, in cold blood.

I smirked in amusement at the despot's cold and callous nature, though unlike him, I had strangely felt a tiny warmth within my hollow heart, while watching the spectacle, especially as the boy threw himself before the spell, successfully protecting the female summoner from harm and sacrificing his own life, in the process.

The light of their love appeared pure and true, and that, in itself, intrigued me. In fact, I wouldn't have minded witnessing the scenario's conclusion, had the Emperor not interjected.

Sensing the presence of the summoner's approaching comrades, I watched the Emperor slink away from the drawn-out battle, with Jecht's lifeless body, as a consolation prize, before I, too, retreated with him back to the land of discord, abandoning the girl to fret over her lover's unconscious form and the sudden abduction of her guardian.

Returning to the imitation of Castle Pandemonium, the Emperor abandoned Jecht's body in a distant corner of the room, like a collection of trash, before sinking down onto his throne. The battle with the summoner had been slightly more strenuous than he desired to admit.

Appearing from the shadows, in a brief flurry of raven feathers, I approached him while observing the bitter expression, upon his features. Briefly glancing at me, from the corner of his amethyst eyes, he rested his cheek upon his fist. He clearly was not in the mood for my banter, but I cared not. Soon, he determined this, as well, and realized he would not be able to simply ignore me.

"Quite a show, wasn't it? A drama of that caliber is hard to come by in this world," he said, breaking the silence while simultaneously revealing he had known I was present through the entire encounter.

"It appears your scheme failed. Had you known of the summoner's feelings for the boy, an alternative strategy would have been necessary for success," I pointed out.

His lip curled in disgust and annoyance, as he recalled the warrior of harmony's interruption.

"Such useless emotions have no place here. I may not have anticipated such an unsightly display, but next time, she shall not escape so easily. I will crush her, like the annoying insect that she is," the gold tyrant declared with an undertone of aggression. Laughing, softly, I folded my arms.

"You underestimate the power love can have over another person. Haven't you ever been swayed by its influence?" I questioned.

" _Me_?" he snorted in surprise, before a renewed expression of disinterest washed over his countenance.

"Only the weak fall for such distractions. My sole devotion is to the pursuit of greater power," he added.

His eyes followed me, suspiciously, as I sauntered closer to him.

" _And_ to Chaos," I suggested as a disingenuous smile claimed his painted lips.

"Of course," he responded before I suddenly lowered my lithe form onto his lap.

Inwardly smiling in victory, when he did not immediately rebuke me, I laced my arm behind his neck to his shoulder, while bringing my nocturnal gold eyes to meet his always-calculating violet. Even now, I knew he was thinking of ways he could use this situation to his advantage.

"Love can be the most deadly of blades, when used correctly," I informed as he rested his forearm over the tops of my tattooed thighs and allowed his fingers to toy with the ends of my long, silver hair, that cascaded upon them.

He was curious, intrigued by this foreign concept, same as I. What could the warriors of harmony know that we did not? Were we, warriors of discord, incapable of such feelings? Is that why we saw them as foolish and fleeting?

"Whether she realizes it or not, the affection she feels for that scrawny child became the weapon that thwarted your supposedly infallible plans. Could you not feel its strength?" I explained as he glared at me, agitated by my implication that his scheme was somehow flawed.

Suddenly grabbing the strands of my hair, he had initially been playing with, he aggressively yanked me even closer to him, but I would not be so easily overtaken. Swiftly adjusting my position, to where I was straddling him, I summoned a magic, neon-violet dagger and threateningly pressed it to his throat, in warning that if he did not release me, he would pay, _dearly_. No man would touch me without my consent, _not ever again_.

Smirking in dangerous amusement, he glanced down upon the magicked blade before meeting my yellow gaze, once more.

"Do you really want to play this game?" he snidely questioned as my mouth twitched into a deadly smile.

"Why not? It would be so easy to entrap a man such as you," I stated as he almost laughed at that declaration, before I leaned in closer and brushed by crimson lips against his violet ones.

"Secretly, you long for it, same as I, but, it has been my experience that love does not exist for our kind, trapped in these worlds of hatred and persecution. In the end, is it nothing more than a hollow falsehood?" I pondered, aloud, while feeling the heat of his breath against my lips, further fueling my desire.

"Why not lie to me, then," he suggested as he loosened his grip on my hair and flattened his hand against my sternum. Sliding his palm over the jeweled necklaces and up my chest and throat, he cupped the side of my tattooed face, before our lips suddenly collided.

Dropping the magicked dagger, it dispersed into glittering sparks, as we desperately tore at each other, like wild animals, ripping away cloth and armor, until nothing was left to separate our bodies.

In the glimmering, crystal halls of Pandemonium, our true natures had bled through the veil of lies, we had cocooned ourselves in. It was a rare moment of unrestrained freedom amidst endless war. But still, it was not love, and both of us realized that simple fact. What we had lacked the purity of what was felt between the summoner and that boy.

Was such a thing forever beyond my reach? Had what happened to me, so long ago, and my actions since stripped any and all possibilities of experiencing it from me?


	3. Treachery

Laying naked, upon my bed, mired in heat and sweat, I turned my golden irises to the man, laying beside me. By now, I knew he had seen the scars, but he chose to say nothing of them. It was a mixture of frustration and gratitude that the Emperor chose to ignore them. After all, what did it matter to him? He was getting what he wanted from this arrangement, and so was I.

Within the dark gloom of my castle, I rose from the disorderly sheets and ambled over to my old easel. Before my Victorian-styled window, glowing with the light of the full moon, I sat down and took up my brush. Clad in only my milky skin, decorated in a multitude of elaborate tattoos, my long, silver hair cloaked my backside, as I dipped my brush into a mixture of paints. A rare peace suddenly overcame me, as the bristles made contact with the parchment. Admiring my latest creation, I smiled in satisfaction. It was a near perfect depiction of Cape Hope. The image of my old home forever burned into my mind, but it was not yet complete.

"Is that your home?" the tyrant questioned from behind me, finally stirring from his slumber.

"It used to be, long ago, but it is still unfinished. This particular illustration still lacks one significant detail," I responded before dipping my taloned hand into paint, the shade of bloody crimson. With an unstable smile, I smeared it upon the canvas. In my eyes, the red stain reflected my pain and hatred for the place I once called home.

"How wasteful. You ruined it," he commented from his vantage, upon the bed.

"No. Now, it is perfect," I corrected while standing and abandoning the easel. Crawling back onto the bed, I slithered atop the Emperor's supine form and rested there.

"I have a new task for you," he suddenly informed, after a moment, while simultaneously running his sharp fingers through my long silver hair and down my bare side.

"What is it?" I questioned.

"I want you to confront the one called Golbez. Despite his claims, I sense his loyalty is not to Chaos," the despot revealed as I lifted my head and met his amethyst eyes.

"You believe he is a traitor?" I inquired though I wasn't really surprised. He had always seemed more partial to the light.

"Yes, and he knows I suspect him. That is why it should be you, who questions him," the Emperor explained before reversing our positions, to where I was laying beneath him.

"Can I count on you, Ultimecia?" he questioned as I grinned, maliciously.

" _Of course_ , I will bring this turncoat to knees, if I he is found to be guilty," I answered as our lips met, once more, instigating another round of lustful entwining.

 _Treachery_...it was a term I was more than familiar with, and it caused my mind to drift back to a time of weakness and naivety, when I was but a child of sixteen. A girl at the precipice of maturity, and it was during this time, I had caught sight of what should have been my first love.

An older student from the nearby Garden. He was wealthy, popular, and belonged to a renown family, that was well-respected by the community. I thought he was beautiful, and I wanted him to notice me. I would make it my daily mission to follow him and watch him from the shadows, observing every detail of his life, and every night, I would fantasize about the two of us, alone, in my sanctuary, at Cape Hope. Atop the glowing lighthouse, I would imagine us holding hands, as we watched the stars, until the sun would saturate the world, anew, with its light. It was this dream that helped me find a way to mentally cope with the iron fist of my father and the sheer neglect of my mother, but this pleasant illusion was a far cry from the reality of the gentleman I envisioned.

Amidst all the snickering and snide comments of my peers, he approached me, one day, and introduced himself. It was a surprise, to say the least. All the rumors of my awkward stalking, circulating around the school, must have finally come full circle.

Blinded by his seemingly genuine interest in me, I did not notice the sneers and laughter from my fellow classmates. All I could see was his beautiful eyes and charming smile, and all I could hear was the thunderous beating of my own heart. How childish I was not to see the malice behind his kind visage.

He wished to meet with me, after school ended that day. Overwhelmed by the sudden nature of the request, I was sure all this had to be a dream. Why would he, someone who had never even spared a glance in my direction, all of a sudden, become so interested in me? It was the question I should have asked myself, but I cast my suspicions aside out of desperation and loneliness. In my awkward stutter, I bade him to meet me at the lighthouse, the only place that would come to my muddled psyche.

" _Perfect. See you tonight and come alone. I want it to be just the two of us,"_ he told me before leaving my flushed self at the mercy of my oddly quiet classmates.

I could hardly contain my excitement, as the chime of the school bell finally dismissed class. In the light of the setting sun, I dashed along the seaside path, feeling my heart flutter as I caught sight of the glowing lighthouse, in the distance, but as I moved closer, fear and anxiety also grew alongside my budding happiness.

Arriving, just as the last light of day disappeared behind the horizon, I hesitated upon the threshold. With trembling hands, I smoothed down my silver hair and straightened my school uniform. Whispering a silent prayer to the shimmering stars, overhead, I finally summoned enough courage to open the door and enter.

Inside the lighthouse, it was cold and dark, with only the occasional rotating flash of light illuminating the shadows.

" _I had no idea that you have such a crush on me,"_ a familiar voice commented, causing my heart to skip a beat.

It was _him_! He actually showed-up and was waiting for me! This wasn't just some cruel scheme, after all. How foolish I was to think that.

Moving closer to him, I realized he was looking through my hidden stash of paintings, most of which, were of him, in various settings and themes. My cheeks reddened in humiliation. How could I not have remembered to put the obsessive illustrations away?

" _No need to be embarrassed. I find it flattering, actually,"_ he informed before I suddenly noticed he carried a green bottle in his hand, swishing around with some strange liquid. Putting it to his lips, he imbued a few gulps, before offering it to me.

Accepting, in fear of being rude, I smelled the fluid, before crinkling up my face at its strong odor. It was alcohol. Blushing when he laughed at my reaction, I forced myself to partake of his offering, almost choking on it, in the process.

" _Come, sit with me,"_ he requested and I hesitantly obeyed him, even though I had already started to feel uncomfortable, especially when he draped his arm around me and pulled me closer to his body. I attempted to convince myself, my suspicions were nothing but a fabrication of my timid mind, a false illusion only purposed to steal away the one thing I had always dreamed of, but as the night drifted on, the dreadful feelings only grew stronger. I should have listened to them but would it have changed anything. After all, I was already in the serpent's coils.

" _It's warmer this way,"_ he explained away while rubbing my stiff body. His breath was hot against my ear, and the stench of alcohol permeated my olfactory, as he spoke. Gasping as his fingers reached for my face, I trembled, when he removed my glasses.

" _Mmm, y_ _ou are very pretty._ _Don't you think so?"_ he asked while leaning closer to my face.

" _N-No...I-I_ _t-think...I-I_ _h-have to g-go,"_ I stuttered while attempting to free myself from his arms and stand, but his grip only tightened, further fueling my rising fear.

" _No, we're going to be friends, tonight. Really. Good. Friends. It's what you've always wanted, right?"_

Firmly grabbing my chin, his lips suddenly smashed against my own. The painful kiss smothered my surprised scream, as I began to struggle against him. Wrestling me onto the cold, stone floor, I felt his hands roughly grabbing and squeezing, as they forcefully explored my petite form. Catching his wrist just as it darted beneath my plaid skirt, I broke free of his lips and verbalized my protest.

" _Stop it!"_ I screamed but my words fell on deaf ears and my frail strength availed me not, in fighting him off. Fear and panic overwhelmed me, as he continued his assault. The world was a blur, without the aid of my glasses. Grabbing the closest object nearest to me, I found the empty bottle, discarded upon the floor, and smashed it into his face.

Crying out in pain, he briefly released me. Unable to control my sobs, I attempted to scramble away from him, backwards, on my elbows.

" _Bitch!"_ he growled, clutching his face as blood escaped from between his fingers, pouring down his enraged visage and causing him to resemble even more of a monster. What had happened to the beautiful angel of my dreams, the fairytale prince that was supposed to steal me away, to a place of never-ending happiness?

Grabbing my ankles, he yanked me back to him, before striking me so hard, I thought I would lose consciousness. The room seemed to spin, and I was seeing double of everything. Fingers wrapping around my throat, he strangled the breath from my lungs, until the world faded to black.

Eventually, I came to, once more, and was greeted by the sound of grunts and labored breathing. The sensation of pain consumed my body, and I felt nauseated. My hands were bound, and my tearful eyes were blindfolded. Realizing what was happening to me, I began to scream uncontrollably, before a heavy mass suddenly pressed down on top of my body, and a sweaty hand clasped over my mouth, muffling my hysteric cries.

Centuries seemed to pass, before he finally finished with me. Abandoning me, without even a word, broken and used upon the floor. I remember, clearly, the smell of blood and filth. My face and eyes raw with tears, I stared up, free of my bonds, into the hollow tower, watching the first rays of sun filter through the windows. In that moment, something inside my mind seemed to break, and my tears ceased to flow. The aching of my heart died and grew cold, and an emptiness, unlike any I had ever felt, devoured what was left of my shredded soul.

I felt hollow and spent. My past and future faded into nothing, like a shed skin, along with my love and sorrow, and suddenly, I heard someone calling my name.

" _...Ultimecia."_

"… _Ultimecia?"_

"ULTIMECIA!"

"W-What...?" I groggily questioned as my sight slowly returned from the darkness of my haunted past. Hovering above me, with a look of fury and shock, was the Emperor.

"Why are you crying? I barely touched you," he angrily informed as I squinted at him, in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" I inquired before feeling something cool upon my face. Swiping at my cheek with the back of my hand, I discovered a tear had escaped my eye.

Speechlessly, my gaze returned to his, and his frown depended, at my lack of an explanation.

"I think we're done, for tonight, Ultimecia. Don't forget to report your findings on Golbez," the Emperor said in controlled agitation, before standing and pulling his clothes back on. Vanishing, he teleported back to his crystal lair, Pandemonium.

He'd be back. I'd give him two days, tops, and he would come begging for my affections. I _was_ the only female, amongst the warriors of discord, after all, unless you wanted to count Cloud of Darkness, which was more of an 'it' than a woman, or that mad clown's little puppet, but how much fun could that little, emotionless doll be compared to a fully responsive partner?

My thoughts suddenly returned to the tear upon my hand.

"How rare...," I voiced. Apparently, my past still affected me, like a broken switch, coming and going, at random.

Returning to my nearby easel, I stared transfixed upon the red stain marring my painting of home, as my mind returned to the darkness of that time, the taint of betrayal smothering my mind like a vermillion fog.


	4. Blood Ties

Hiding within the darkness, amongst towering, crystal pillars of yet another imitation world, I carefully stalked the suspected traitor, Golbez. For a mage, he was a rather large and muscular man, cloaked, entirely, in black armor, and his face remained as mysterious as his motives

It was not a surprise that he was suspected of treachery. The dark thaumaturge had never really fit in amongst us warriors of discord, and he did not seem to take pleasure in pain and cruelty. He constantly exercised mercy and restraint, when facing the warriors of harmony. Sometimes he even gave them, _the_ _enemy_ , advice under the guise of disparagement. Did he think we were fools, who would not notice? How absurd.

Floating, stealthily, through the dark space, as though gravity had forgotten me, I gently clung to the pellucid facets of the columns and peered down below. My raven wings beat, stealthily, at my spine, as I drifted high above my target. The burning urge to end his treacherous existence pooled inside of me. Like an assassin's prey, he would never know what hit him. It would be so quick and satisfying. The mere thought of snuffing out the flame of his life sent chills of excitement throughout my body.

Suddenly, he turned his head and glanced over his broad shoulder, in my direction.

"I can sense your blood lust. It places an obvious and distasteful weight upon the air. Why are you here, witch?" his deep voice questioned.

The thoughtfulness, that normally existed in his tone, was replaced by a tinge of aggression. He had made it very clear, upon our first meeting, that he was not very fond of me, but as far as I was concerned, it made little difference. I was well accustomed to making enemies, in any place I found myself in, including this new world.

Dropping down, gracefully, from the shadows, I stood before him, completely dwarfed by his incredible size, but fortunately, for myself, mass did not equal skill.

"I came of my own volition. I heard, through the grapevine, that you have taken quite a peculiar interest in the warriors of harmony. Could it be you are scheming an attack? If so, I would like to join in on the fun, _unless_ you were planning on keeping them all for yourself," I taunted as the large, armored man sighed, in annoyance.

"I don't know what it is you are trying to accuse me of, but it is obvious the Emperor put you up to this," he expressed as I folded my arms and gave a slight shrug of my shoulders.

"Whatever do you mean?" I inquired, feigning ignorance, if not for the slightest, smug smile, upon my face, shining a light upon my deception.

"Everyone knows about your little relationship, or whatever the two of you consider it to be," the dark mage revealed. His tone was situated somewhere between disinterest and disgust.

"I prefer to think of it as a beneficial partnership," I corrected as the large, armored man snorted.

"Beneficial, _indeed_ , though a certain harlequin has gossiped that your castle has grown quiet, as of late," he laughed as I felt the corners of my blood-red lips involuntarily dip into a frown.

It was true, I had not seen the conniving despot, since the night he prematurely departed, due to an unfortunate and untimely flux in my emotions. I had expected him to eventually return, once his foul mood had pacified, somewhat, but it had taken days to track down the elusive thaumaturge's whereabouts, and he had yet to return, in all that time.

Laughing at myself for my needless worry, I shook my head and lifted my talon-tipped hand to partially obscure my face. What difference did it make? Why did I even care, if I ever saw that pompous tyrant, again?

"You are stronger without him," Golbez spoke, interjecting my thoughts, as his tone grew serious, once more.

"When what's left of this fragmented world finally slips into chaos, he will only leave you to drown," he advised as I gazed at him, incredulously. Did he really think I did not realize that?

"I don't need someone like you lecturing me. Do not delude yourself into thinking I am unaware of his schemes. In fact, I am using him just as much as he is me," I clarified as the monstrous oaf simply stared down at me, or at least, appeared to. It was difficult to decipher, with him garbed in that ridiculous helmet.

"If that is what you wish to tell yourself," the thaumaturge responded as I laughed, quietly, and placed a heliotrope-colored hand upon my hip.

"Oh, and what is your opinion?" I inquired, feigning curiosity, before the dark mage suddenly turned from me and fell silent, for a moment, as if to think.

" _How dare he turn his back to me,"_ I thought, with a snarl, feeling disrespected, as I glared daggers into his spine. Was he so confident in his safety, that he believed me to be of no threat?

"I think you are a lonely woman with a void in her heart, placed there by some past trauma, and you are willing to accept love from the worst of people, if only to dull the pain, inside of you," he answered as a stunned expression briefly captured my initially insulted countenance. It was shocking how insightful he was, but I wasn't about to feed into this supposed counseling session.

"Ever the therapist, aren't we, Golbez? I must admit, this is interesting, but I think we may have strayed, a little too far, from the point of this dull meeting," I responded, my intelligent voice fading to a predatory growl, as I suddenly summoned a magic ax, glowing a brilliant white and neon violet.

"Perhaps after you are reborn, the gods will bless you with the knowledge to know better than to turn your back to _me_ ," I spat, using my immense powers to hurl the mystic weapon through space. He quickly parried, just before it separated his head from his shoulders.

I smiled, viciously, as I imagined the look of shock upon his hidden features. He would know my power, and with fear and admiration, he would respect it.

Summoning a barrage of magic projectiles, I sent them spiraling toward the armored mage, like a vibrant torrent of death. Teleporting through space, he attempted to dodge the volley, but for a single glowing arrow, he was not quick enough. Falling to the ground with a heavy, rattling thud, I soon stood, victoriously, over him. My bare, tattooed foot planted firmly into his dark breastplate. Conjuring a deadly poleaxe, I held the luminescent arm to his throat.

"You claim to know so much about me, yet I also know of you. I am aware that you have blood on the side of the enemy, and it is obvious that you would do anything to protect him. In fact, you shield him, even now, by continuing to bear the mantle of the dark to keep him in the light," I revealed, staring down upon him with my gold gaze, as brilliant as the sun yet as cold and merciless as a field of ice.

"Cecil, isn't that his name? I have seen him, before. Fair, like the pale surface of the moon, yet he is as weak as the dim light it yields," I commented while placing the sharp tip of the magic halberd beneath the bottom of his ornate helmet, threatening to remove it.

"Perhaps, I should make him my slave. He would make an excellent sorceress' knight, possessing both light and dark qualities," I suggested, cruelly, while jerking the poleaxe, to insinuate how serious I was.

"There is no need for threats. I have been willing to tell you what you wish to know, from the beginning," Golbez informed while taking the head of the long ax, in his enormous hand, and casting it away from his jawline.

"Then speak! Tell me what you are scheming with the light warriors," I demanded while allowing the weapon to vanish in a fading flurry of sparks.

"I scheme nothing. The ever-growing army of manikins will wash away the stain of harmony from this world, and even I know there is no stopping the coming flood," the dark thaumaturge answered, as an expression of disbelief cloaked my features.

"The only dealings I have had with them is for Cecil's sake. I only wish to cleave him away from the light, before it is too late," he clarified as I felt the ugly weight of envy oppress my heart. Even in the midst of war, he cared for his brother. My family would have never afforded me such kindness.

Realizing I had suddenly become distracted by my own tumultuous thoughts, the armored mage took the opportunity to strike. Firing a dark beam, from his large, gloved hand, I quickly attempted to dodge, but shamefully, I did not clear it in time. The spell hit my side, forcing me down onto my knees and leaving behind a scorched tear, in my vermillion dress.

Clutching the fresh injury, rage and adrenaline swiftly consumed me, like fire to a field of dead wheat.

"Fool, you dare attack me!" I shouted, enraged, before struggling back to my feet.

Summoning what was left of my power, I raised a single hand, as a growing concentration of energy formed at my palm, in the image of the moon. Firing the large orb, it barreled into space, obliterating anything in its path. It was then I realized the thaumaturge had fled. All traces of his presence had vanished, leaving me abandoned and wounded.

"Coward," I cursed before pain suddenly assailed my senses, pulling a groan from my lips.

Glancing down upon the wound, I lifted my hand from the torn fabric upon my side, revealing a glistening laceration, beneath. Blood covered my palm and continued to ooze from the broken flesh. Gathering what remained of my strength, I attempted to heal myself, but soon discovered it was a wasted effort. My energy was depleted. I would have to rest, before I could attempt the curative spell, again.

Binding the wound the old fashioned way, I departed the replica dimension, realizing it would not be wise to remain in an area Golbez had knowledge of. He would surely share that particular tidbit of information with the enemy, in an effort to dispose of me, in my weakened state, and purge my memory of any knowledge of his treachery.

Wandering the dead world, beneath a gloomy sky of clouds and smoke, I encountered no one, except for the occasional roaming manikin, before finally arriving at the ruins of an ancient city. Delapidated houses littered the barren fields, hollow yet full of unseen memories. Stone staircases, devoid of the walls that once surrounded them, led up to the charcoal sky.

Walking through the ruins, blanketed in an uncanny silence, I eventually came to a crescent-shaped lake, surrounding the entire long-forsaken, ghost town. Gazing upon the glittering surface of the calm water, the image reminded me of the sparkling ocean, that had surrounded my childhood home. The only structures absent were the enormous moon and that accursed lighthouse.

"Such beauty and sorrow...I wish I had thought to bring my easel," I muttered, my dark wings enveloping me, as I lowered myself down to the ground, in an attempt to rest.

My gold gaze lingered upon the placid and vitreous surface, as my thoughts returned to the last place I had visited, in my memories, nights before, while with the Emperor.

After that horrendous night, in the lighthouse, I had managed to wander home. Unnoticed by my family and what remained of the staff, I wordlessly drug myself to the bathroom and plunged my soar and battered body into a tub of clear water. Scrubbing so hard, my skin bled, I wished to wash away the filth, that angel in disguise had left behind, and purify myself, but I soon realized the taint was more than just skin-deep.

I placed my torn and bloody clothes, into a small box, and buried them, in a shallow grave, along with the innocent and naive girl, I once was. I felt empty, numb, and abandoned. Afraid that if I allowed myself to feel anything, even the smallest emotion, it would only serve to break the dam, holding back the vast reservoir of my pain.

My grades plummeted, like the world around me. It was obvious that everyone knew what had happened, and the ensuing whispers and jeers haunted me. I was ridiculed for my naivety, and when my parents caught ear of the rumors, the first words to leave my father's lips, after he had finished beating me, were...

"You better not be pregnant!"

Somehow, it was not surprising, and neither was my mother's indifference.

Soon, I ceased attendance at the academy, entirely, no longer able to find the comfort and exhilaration, I once did, in the acquisition of knowledge. I spent the remainder of my eventless days staring, listlessly, out my bedroom window, upon the lighthouse. I did not sleep. I did not eat. I did not move.

Hour after hour.

Day after day.

Month after month.

Season after season.

Instead of seeing the beacon as my sanctuary, it had become the looming symbol of my misfortune, and finally, I had had enough and was ready to end it all.


	5. Suicide

As I became more aware, the dreamless darkness, of my unconsciousness, gradually faded away. Slowly opening my gold eyes, I was greeted by the unexpected presence of an old, patchy ceiling, in place of the gloomy, cloud-covered sky. My surroundings were dim yet warm, and the scent of burning wood permeated my senses.

The last memories I possessed were of being outside, by the lake, and my aching side forced me to recall my battle with the traitor, Golbez. The unhealed wound warned me of the dangers of being too free with my movements, but my true concerns were still unanswered. Why was I in this dark and dilapidated structure, and who had dared to bring me here? Whoever it was had to be highly skilled, since they did not disturb my slumber, but of course, the blame, for my deep unconsciousness, could lie, solely, with my injuries, and this person could simply be a blundering fool.

Disoriented, I thoroughly examined my environment, before my aureate gaze was drawn to a silent, silhouetted figure, sitting, as motionless as a statue, upon the pane-less windowsill.

"So, you're awake," it suddenly spoke. The voice was deep, masculine, and one I vaguely recognized from _somewhere_.

"It isn't very wise letting your guard down, with so many enemies nearby," he added as I quietly studied what I could of my new host, while examining what options I currently had, within my mind.

I could simply remain with my captor and humor whatever game he was playing, while secretly allowing my strength to completely rebuild, or I could use what power, I had regained, and destroy him, utterly. A smirk formed on my crimson lips, as I made my decision, but did I have enough energy to execute my plan?

"Do you think someone like me really needs to hide?" I retorted while slowly rising to my feet.

Clutching my damaged side, I summoned what power was restored to me and used it to cast as powerful a spell as I could manage. Skillfully, he dodged my attack, but just before my barrage of magic projectiles blew apart the already condemned structure, I caught sight of an odd, glowing stare, in the darkness.

Sprouting a single, black wing, the man deflected the stray shots with an incredibly long and narrow sword, before slowly descending to the barren ground, along with the splintered pieces of rotted wood and debris. In the clear light of day, I instantly recognized the mysterious, winged swordsman. He was the seventh warrior of discord, Sephiroth.

Many times had the other members of Chaos attempted to recruit Sephiroth for their own specific agendas, but the ex-SOLDIER appeared to have no interest in the war between the gods or the other warriors' petty plots. He remained solitary, rejecting the company and aid of others, while traveling the decaying world, alone, in search of his memories and reason for existence. I only had a few, brief encounters with the fallen hero, but I knew better than to take him lightly.

As the dust settled, I took the opportunity to survey the land around me and noticed the moon-shaped lake, in the distance, sparkling beneath the cloudy yet illuminated sky. It appeared he had not even taken me from the ruins of Crescent. Returning my attention to him, he simply stared back at me, with cold and unreadable, jade-green eyes, as his extra, feathery, appendage swiftly withdrew into his spine, with a sickening sound.

"I have no quarrel with you, witch, so be at ease. Your wound is deeper than it appears," he warned, dismissing his sword into a void of space-time, to prove he had no desire to fight. Feeling a renewed, throbbing ache in my side, I glanced down and noticed a growing, darkened area on the vermilion fabric of my dress.

" _Golbez really was trying to kill me. Treacherous coward,"_ I thought before collapsing to one knee, as my strength waned. Grinding my teeth, I seethed at my current situation. I despised appearing weak and vulnerable, but my circumstances could not prevent it.

"I would have healed you, but this world doesn't seem to have any usable materia," the swordsman explained as I stared at him, bewildered.

"What are you talking about?" I questioned, the odd statement momentarily distracting me from my agony.

"Materia is the crystallized lifeblood of a planet. This world seems to have died off, long ago, its lifestream has long since faded. There is no way for me to obtain power, in a place like this," he expressed, as I quickly lost interest and dismissed the explanation as otherworldly rubbish.

"I doubt you came all this way to simply chat. What is it you want, Sephiroth?" I demanded, cutting to the chase. I was in a great deal of pain, and I didn't feel like indulging some leisurely and pointless conversation about things that didn't even apply to this rotting land.

Folding his arms, he leaned against a nearby stone pillar, halfway eroded by time and the elements. A small smirk formed at the corner of his lips, in response to the aggravated and clipped tone in my voice.

"Chaos has requested the presence of all the warriors of discord, so I have come to collect you," the ex-SOLDIER explained as I perked my painted brow. It was well known that the long-haired swordsman avoided and ignored any and all such summons.

"Oh? Why didn't Mateus come?" I inquired as Sephiroth gazed at me, blankly.

"Who?" he questioned.

"The Emperor," I clarified, realizing I must be one of the few, if not the only one, in _this_ world, who knew the tyrant's real name.

"He refused," the swordsman answered, bluntly, as I attempted to disguise my indignation with indifference.

"I see. Why did you volunteer, then? Last I heard, you were not interested in any dealings with us, warriors of Chaos," I interrogated as he simply shrugged his shoulders.

"It was merely a whim," he replied as I struggled to rise to my feet.

Attempting to walk, I gasped in pain and almost fell forward, before something suddenly appeared at my side, bracing me. The cold buckles of a leather coat brushed against me, causing my fair, tattooed skin to prickle. Realizing it was the silver-haired swordsman acting as my pillar, feelings of pride and a disdain for vulnerability overcame me, causing me to hastily shove him away.

"Don't touch me, I can travel on my own," I hostilely hissed, while holding my side, as I slowly inched ahead of him.

"Trust me, I don't want anything from you," he assured, cautiously following behind me.

"As if I would believe that. Whenever a soldier of discord offers aid, they _always_ expect something in return, eventually, and I most certainly do not wish to be indebted to you," I stated before grabbing hold of the next dilapidated structure, in order to catch my breath.

"As you wish, but at this rate, the council will be over, before we ever get there, and if we were to encounter a stray warrior of harmony, you would only be a burden to me," Sephiroth informed, coldly, as I glanced at him, from the corner of my eye. I knew he was right, but still...Could I do something so demeaning and shameful as accepting assistance from another warrior of the dark?

"Very well, do what must be done," I relented, lowly, as he stood still and stared at me, incredulously. Digging my talon-tipped fingers into the stone edifice, aside me, I snapped my gold gaze, to him, in outrage.

"What are you gawking at? Hurry up before I change my mind!" I barked, sparking him into action, as he grabbed my waist and pulled me, firmly, against his hard body. Gasping, I met his jade stare, before his black wing suddenly re-emerged, sending us high into the dreary sky.

Swiftly passing over the barren land and gray sea, we approached, the god of discord's court of darkness and flame and the diverse congregation of Chaos, united, at least in presentation, before the dark deity, himself. Everyone was in attendance, except for Golbez, who was wise enough to stay away, after recent events.

Gracefully, we landed, and I quickly noticed the Emperor staring me down and looking none-too-pleased, as I rested in the arms of the one-winged angel.

"Ooh, how romantic," Kefka commented with a cackle, as Sephiroth carefully set me down on my feet. It was the first time I had ever allowed a man to handle me in such a way, and I decided it wasn't as humiliating as I thought it would be, especially when I discreetly took note of the Emperor's outraged expression. His glare was hot enough to melt steel.

" _Perhaps I should use this form of payback more often._ _It is definitely worth the results_ _,"_ I thought, victoriously, before hearing the irate tap, of the end of the Emperor's staff, against the ground, as he brazenly approached us. Briefly he glanced at me, as if to say 'I'll deal with you later', before shifting his gaze to Sephiroth and scrutinizing him, up and down, with a venomous stare. If looks could kill, the fallen angel would have most certainly been dead.

"Your aid is no longer needed, swordsman. This council is only for those who are active in the war against harmony, so I suggest you return to your quest for memories," the despot advised, with a threatening undertone in his voice.

"Something has finally captured my interest in this dull world, so I think I'll linger a little longer, this time, _Mateus_ ," Sephiroth responded, with a challenging smirk forming on his lips. The tyrant's amethyst eyes narrowed at the ex-SOLDIER's informal use of his name, resulting in his grip coiling around his scepter so tightly, the leather of his glove began to creak, under the strain.

" _Are they fighting over me? Foolish men, they are all the same,_ _no matter what world they_ _originate_ _from_ _,"_ I thought, rolling my gold eyes, before I heard the dark boom of Chaos' voice interrupt the feud.

"Enough of this folly! Let us, now, bring this meeting to order!" Chaos roared as the Emperor turned, sharply, from the swordsman and resumed his place, at the left hand of Chaos, with a silent Garland occupying the right.

When the council eventually concluded, I abandoned the other trifling warriors of discord, for the illusion of my castle. Entering the moonlit gloom of what should have been sweet isolation, I soon noticed a familiar presence shadowing me, as I ascended the stairs and entered my chamber.

"I don't remember inviting _you_ into my lair," I addressed as the Emperor emerged from the darkness.

"I would say we are passed invitations, Ultimecia. What took you so long?" he immediately interrogated. Envy and suspicion bled through his usually collected and urbane voice.

"Is that jealously I hear?" I questioned, holding my injured side, as I slowly approached the safety of my bed before carefully lowering myself onto it, as if my physical being could shatter, like a fragile, glass figurine, at any moment.

"Ridiculous. I was just pondering how long it takes someone to travel from Crescent to here. The journey isn't a long one, my dear," Mateus commented while leaning against my web-covered vanity and mindlessly toying with a few dusty amulets and noxious, bottled concoctions, scattered about its grainy and snowy surface.

"Oh? You think I was off on some tryst, in my condition? You can put your suspicions to rest. I can't even teleport, in this state, let alone do anything as strenuous as what you normally put me up to. Besides, it wouldn't have been necessary to rely on that man, had you come, instead," I replied before a mischievous smile spread across my ruby lips.

"Though he is quite attractive, isn't he?" I expressed, hearing something glass break, beneath the tyrant's grasp, in response.

"Compared to me?" he asked, incredulously, as I simply smiled.

"He is merely a collection of extraterrestrial refuse masquerading as a man. His original body has long since rotted away. I wouldn't even consider him human, anymore," the Emperor commented, obviously attempting to sway my opinion from desire to disgust, yet I shrugged my shoulders, indifferently.

"How human are you, since you sold your soul? How human are any of us, warriors of the dark, now, after all we've been through, in our lives?" I questioned as he fell silent. He knew I spoke the truth. All soldiers of disorder were distorted by some form of trauma then warped into monster-like beings, possessing god-like powers, capable of tearing the entire world, that wronged them, apart.

"Now, if you could leave. I must rest," I demanded as he glared at me, appearing slighted.

"You're asking _me_ to leave? You still haven't reported your findings on Golbez," he reminded as I sighed, tiredly.

"During my reconnaissance, I discovered he has family on the side of light. He aids the warriors of harmony, in order to protect his brother, Cecil, and he attempted to kill me, in order to purge my memory of this fact. He is obviously a traitor," I informed as the tyrant chuckled, darkly.

"Interesting, another warrior with blood ties to the light. Perhaps, we can make his disloyalty work for us, as we have Jecht. Leverage is one of the best forms of persuasion," he commented as I closed my eyes, wishing to fall asleep, only to sense him still lingering about my chamber.

"Haven't you gotten what you wanted," I interrogated, cracking my eyes open, once more, only to catch him leering at me with a seductive smile playing on his lips.

"Not everything I want," the dictator answered while commencing to unfasten his armor.

"Do you really think I'm going to sleep with you, again, after how you've ignored me, these passed weeks?" I inquired as he set down each golden plate, methodically, upon my table, before beginning his leisurely approach to my resting place.

"I didn't realize it was mandatory that I return to you, every night. Has our rendezvouses become so serious so soon?" he questioned while boldly climbing onto my bed, like a stalking feline.

"Apparently, it is serious enough for you to feel threatened by another man," I retorted as he laughed.

"I am not threatened. There is not a soul here, who can compare to me," Mateus commented, arrogantly, while straddling me and pulling off his black, skin-tight shirt, exposing his lithe yet muscular body. Leaning down, he stretched his arms out above my head, before pressing his lips to mine.

Hissing in pain, I firmly pushed against his chest, forcing him to break from my mouth.

"Don't lay on it," I breathed, drawing his attention to my wound. Peeling back the crimson fabric of my dress, that continued to stubbornly cling to the injury, he finally managed to completely expose the weeping gash, partially cauterized, from the heat of the thaumaturge's spell.

"How ugly...," the despot commented while examining it.

"Heal it, for me," I requested, placing my talon-tipped hand and caressing his forearm. The small gesture was as close as I could get to saying the word 'please'.

"Regrettably, curative magic is the sole kind of sorcery I was unable to master. The only restorative spells I'm skilled in is blood magic, and I'm not willing to injure myself on your behalf, I'm afraid. It might be simpler just to kill you, then you would be purified, again," he suggested as I chuckled at his dark humor, wincing in pain as I did.

"You're a bastard," I managed as he withdrew a vile from what remained of his clothes.

"You should save your insults, because fortunately, I have this," the Emperor revealed as my gold eyes widened at the rare sight. Most healing tinctures were hoarded away by the irritating, little spirits, known as moogles, and the nimble creatures were not too keen on selling them to members of Chaos. It made me wonder how the despot was able to acquire one, but I was far too desperate for it, to concern myself with that, now.

"A potion," I gasped, reaching for the small vile, before he quickly moved it away from my straining fingers.

"It comes with a price, _my love_ ," he disclosed, rolling it around in his long-nailed hands, as if he were toying with my very life, itself.

" _Of course, it does. Nothing is ever free with this man,"_ I thought, while staring up at him, annoyed.

"You want me on my knees, again?" I dared to guess as a partial smile tugged at the corner of his painted lips, in response.

"I want you to keep away from Sephiroth. He's already made it clear that he will not aid us in our endeavors, so you have no reason to even be in the same vicinity as that useless wretch. It would be counterproductive to our plan, I'm afraid," the tyrant revealed as I glared at him. If there was one thing I abhorred, it was paramours who assumed they had the right to control me.

"I don't like possessive men, Mateus," I warned as he perked a blond brow.

"Oh? You should have thought about that, before you chose me as your lover. You already know I don't like to share, especially when I gain nothing from it. Of course, you can always be present, when I arrange for his demise. Doesn't that satisfy you?" the autocrat spoke while dangling the potion above my head.

"I'm afraid, I must reject your offer," I informed, turning my head away from his lure, as he responded to my obstinate refusal with another deviant smile.

"I'm confident I can persuade you otherwise," he declared, seeing my decision as more of a challenge for him to conquer than a definite answer.

"Does the word 'no' mean nothing to you?" I interrogated, in a tone of protest, while feeling him kiss my jaw and throat.

"Perhaps you should ask the residents of the nine countries I subjugated," the despot answered, haughtily, while carefully sinking lower, down the length of my supine body. Lifting my leg, on the opposing side of my wound, I suddenly felt the presence of his lips against my inner thigh. Gasping in surprise, I jolted, causing an intense bolt of pain to rip through my entire body.

"I'd be still, if I were you," he advised as I reached my talon-tipped fingers into the unruly crown of his blond hair, in a strained effort to exercise some control over what he was doing.

"It is unlike you to be so generous," I commented, breathlessly, as he merely chuckled and continued to progress in his lascivious scheme.

...

Eventually, our entanglement met its end. Laying beneath the despot's lithe frame, my arms were still laced beneath his, and my hands clutched his shoulder blades, that were scratched from where my nails had bitten into him. Kissing me, one final time, he rolled off my limp body, still tingly and alight with the fading embers of ecstasy. Breathing hard, we lay beside each other, our flesh hot and twinkling with beads of sweat.

The potion vile, now rested, drained and carelessly discarded, atop my nightstand. The forgotten token was a virtual reminder that I had caved to his desires, but I still had no intention of allowing him to control me. What we had was purely chemical, and as long as we remained in this depressing world, constantly at war, our bodies would continue to be drawn to each other, out of a strange yet undeniable necessity. He could spout all the possessive nonsense he wanted, but it wouldn't change anything, as far as I was concerned. I belonged to no one, and I would be with whomever I deemed worthy or desirable.

"You didn't cry, this time," Mateus suddenly pointed out, being the first to break the silence of our afterglow.

Sitting up, I swung my tattooed legs over the edge of the mattress. Reaching down, I retrieved a bowl of clean water, I had hidden near the bed.

"I find it surprising something like that would bother you. If I didn't know better, I would think you actually care," I commented while taking a drenched cloth, from the basin, before proceeding to wash myself. I despised the feeling of filth, and the sooner I rid myself of it the better.

"It felt like I was bedding a sniveling child. Not exactly arousing, my dear," he responded, defensively, while watching my scrubbing ritual, with a disinterested yet somewhat disturbed expression.

"Really? I thought men liked things like that," I commented, sarcastically.

"Perhaps it is attractive in some women, _weak_ women, but it is unlike _you_ to be so emotional, even if physically injured. So, why?" the tyrant inquired, curiously. It surprised me that he continued to press the issue. He was leaving me little choice but to blatantly tell him why I was so damaged.

"I was raped as a girl, and sometimes, it still haunts me," I revealed, bluntly, not even turning around to gauge his reaction to such a revelation. It wasn't an enjoyable experience revealing, especially to someone like the Emperor, that I had endured such trauma, as a youth, and that I still carried psychological damage from the event, many years later.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" I eventually questioned, feeling the weight of his silence become an increasingly uncomfortable burden, with each passing second.

" _He is the one, who wished to know. Now, he is probably regretting it,"_ I thought before suddenly, feeling the mattress dip, behind me. Grabbing my shoulder, he stole the clothe from my hand and pushed me back down onto the bed, to where he was above me, once again.

"I can do this, myself," I complained as he proceeded to continue the task, I had instigated.

"Did your offender give you these, as well?" the tyrant inquired, ignoring my protests, as he ran his sharp fingers over several scars, rendered nearly invisible by my tattoos. Relenting, I relaxed my body and placed my arms above my head, permitting him to have his way.

"Some," I replied, vaguely, while feeling my skin prickle, as the cool air evaporated the moisture from my flesh.

"What about these?" he interrogated, submerging the rag, again, and ringing it out, before rubbing it over the curve of my raised forearm to the marks marring my upturned wrist, where I had, in my despair, attempted to end my own life.

"Self-inflicted," I responded, simply, as he paused his actions, momentarily.

"You desired death?" the autocrat questioned, seeming surprised.

"A long time ago," I answered.

"How foolish," he commented as I narrowed my gold eyes.

"Why?" I retorted as he blanketed my body with his own, once more, before pressing his lips to the old injury on my wrist. The action ignited a sensation that was somewhat sensual yet far more intense.

"You cannot exact revenge, if you are in the grave," the despot explained as I smiled, slightly. There was some truth to that.

"You have never thought about taking your own life?" I interrogated, curiously, before he snorted at the notion, as if it were highly ridiculous.

"Nonsense. After I conquer the world, I plan on enjoying a _very_ long reign, but apparently, your other paramour has considered this option, quite seriously," he responded while moving to lay down beside me. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulled my body against his.

"Sephiroth?" I inquired. The hell-bound tyrant didn't appear pleased that I had responded to the silver-haired swordsman as my paramour but allowed it to slide.

"He took his own life, right before my eyes, before being purified, once more. I have tried to calculate what he could have possibly gained from such a drastic action, but...," he stated before I interjected.

"Perhaps you should take the same path and find out," I suggested, sarcastically,

"And sacrifice all that I have gained? Not likely, my dear," he responded against my ear as I squeezed his hands, cradling my chest. Suicide. It was something I had, once, been well-acquainted with.

...

Leaving a simple note for my neglectful and indifferent parents, detailing my plans for the end, I abandoned my home and set out for the symbolic lighthouse. The towering beacon would set the stage for my demise and perhaps the instigation of my true liberation, as well.

Climbing the spiraling, stone steps, a multitude of thoughts began to storm my mind. Would my family find me in the morning? My body smashed upon the rocky shore. Would they even care to look?

"No more pain," I whispered while glancing down at the self-inflicted scars on my wrists.

Gazing out into the orange and violet sky, my gold eyes glittered in the setting of the sun. I was ready. There was nothing for me, in this world. Had there ever been?

Walking to the very edge, I allowed my expressionless eyes to close. Leaning forward, I felt the sea breeze, against my skin, envelop me, like a welcoming embrace, as I allowed myself to fall forward. With the groundless air as my cradle, my world quickly spiraled into darkness, but I would soon learn that it was not the end. Fate, merciless and fickle, had other plans for me.

Eventually I awakened, finding myself within an unfamiliar, rustic house. The old structure, of wood and stone, was round in shape and possessed a single, cluttered room. A small fire pit inhabited the center of the floor, along with a cooking pot and utensils. Dried herbs and vegetables hung from the ceiling, in abundance, and shelves of books and odd tinctures lined the walls, along with a desk, inhabited by scraps of yellowed parchment and an inkwell, home to a striped, pheasant's quill.

Struggling to sit up, I weakly cast the soft quilt from my supine form. Lifting my pale gown, I inspected my horribly aching body and was met with the sight of multiple, white bandages binding my petite form and stained with a pinkish-red tinge.

" _It was real. I did jump, so why am I still alive?_ _"_ I thought with a sensation of surreality and, at the same time, disappointment. My suffering was supposed to be over. I had fully intended to end it all and embrace the painless freedom of oblivion, so why? Who had dared to rob me of that and bring me here?

Managing to rise to my feet, I held onto the walls and furniture, for support, as I slowly made my way to the door. Approaching the sole exit, I could hear the rolling, ocean waves, crashing against the rocky cliffs. Opening the door, the brilliant sunlight momentarily blinded me, as I stepped out into the fresh air. Abandoning the quaint, vine-covered cottage, I was greeted by an untamed garden of flowers. The blooms were in a variety of shades and breeds, covered in swarms of butterflies and other tiny, buzzing creatures. It had been years since I had been amidst such beauty.

My family home had once possessed a beautiful garden, but with the decline of my father's sanity and the loss of our prosperity, it was now just a neglected collection of dead weeds and broken stone. In its prime, it had been a place of solace for me, before the now-tainted sanctuary of the lighthouse.

Grabbing an old broom, resting on the porch, I turned it on its handle and used it as a walking staff, before making my way through the wild yet beautiful overgrowth. It wasn't long before I noticed a human figure sitting upon the edge of a nearby cliff, overlooking the sparkling, blue sea. My thin gown billowed, in the salty breeze, along with my silver hair, as I set my path for the hooded form.

"A-Are you the one who brought me here?" I questioned, approaching the cloaked person from behind. My voice came out weak and hoarse, and for a moment, I wondered if the figure had even heard me, but just as I was about to repeat myself, the form suddenly responded.

"I found you, yesterday morning, barely clinging to life, on the shore," it revealed, in a wise and clear tone that was, obviously, female.

Rising to her feet, the woman turned around and removed the velvet hood from her head. She was slender and tall, with lengthy, dark hair loosely pinned up with ornate chopsticks. Her skin possessed an olive shade, and her eyes were a smoldering hazel, accentuated by black, smoky eyeshadow. Beneath her tattered cloak gleamed silky robes as brilliantly colored and patterned as butterfly wings. Colorful and otherworldly tattoos decorated what I could see of her flesh, including her face.

I had heard rumors of a strange woman living on the coast. The fishermen would gossip of people disappearing, whenever they dared to draw near to her abode. Seeing her now, she did not appear anything like the old, sea hag, they described. She was eccentric, perhaps, but alluringly so.

I had always struggled when addressing others, due to my stutter and natural shyness, but I felt abnormally fearful of the robed female. Her mere presence radiated intelligence and power. As I summoned up the courage to confront her, I could feel myself tremble and my gilt eyes welled-up with tears.

"Y-You had no right to save me!" I stammered as her auburn eyes widened, in surprise.

"Are you angry with me?" she questioned, curiously, while staring into my gold orbs, so intensely and steadfast, I was left with no choice but to divert my gaze.

"I-It's just...I wanted to die," I explained as she approached me and grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet her penetrating stare. Finally, one of the restrained tears, in my eyes, escaped and dripped onto her long-nailed fingers.

"Indeed, you have forfeited your life, but you failed to end it. You belong to me, now," she declared.

"W-What are you talking about?" I interrogated. Her aura was overpowering, and immediately, it felt as if I were falling under her spell.

"You have willingly relinquished your freewill, and I can tell by your subconscious desire to cling to life, that you are strong. Yes, I think I have finally found the girl to succeed me," the dark-haired woman stated as I trembled in fear and confusion. Was this lady insane?

"S-Succeed you to what? W-Who are you?" I questioned.

"I am a sorceress," she revealed as my gold irises met her hazel, in shock.

She was a sorceress? All my life, I had been told that the sorceresses were extinct, after being hunted down by SEED and exterminated. Nowadays, Garden and SEED were more of an old tradition to uphold, in honor of the SEEDs, who defeated the last, great sorceress and prevented the destruction of the entire world. Of course, the modern Gardens still undertook some mercenary work, but witch hunting was no longer a part of the job description.

"Y-You are a sorceress," I repeated, stunned, as her painted lips stretched into a smile.

"I am the last, and despite my appearance, I am quite old. For years, I have searched for a worthy successor, and at last, I believe I have found one," the sorceress explained.

"Why me?" I questioned, unable to fathom why someone so powerful would choose me. I was weak, without skill, and broken. What could I possibly offer this woman as a student?

"You severed your ties to this life and willingly chose to end it. You, my dear, are hollow, dead inside, but fate chose to spare you. I will make use of the life, you discarded," she responded as I stared at her, still in shock.

"B-But my family...," I muttered, trying to create an excuse while pulling away from her grasp and limping toward the edge of the cliff. In the distance, cloaked in the morning haze, the shape of the lighthouse and my home could be seen.

"To your family, you were already a ghost, long before you threw yourself into the sea. Let them go. They already believe you are dead, and you corpse lost to the sea," she informed, approaching me from behind, until she was so close I could feel the warmth of her body against my own.

"B-But I am just a girl. I don't even know any magic," I stated, feeling my distress mount along with my hopelessness.

"The powers of a sorceress are different from the regular spells you draw from monsters. My powers are something that can only be inherited from another sorceress. Upon my demise, you shall possess incredible abilities, you dare only dream of, but in order to control them, you must submit yourself to my knowledge and prepare," the witch explained as I still was awestruck and incredulous of her offer.

"Once, there were many of us. Each with unique abilities. I possess the power to control time, and the ability to create arms of light, from nary a thing. I need a girl willing to carry on the last of my kind's great power. Won't you help me?" she questioned, causing me to feel somewhat sorry for her. According to even our history books, the extermination of the sorceresses was, indeed, brutal. Loathed and feared, they were hunted down, like dogs, in every corner of the world, and viciously murdered.

"I can be your friend, your family, anything you need me to be. Let me show you, what it truly means to live, again. With the power, I contain, you will never have to fear anyone, not me, your family, or even the man that stole your innocence," the witch coerced, softly, against my ear, before I felt her arms encircle me, and the warmth of her robes shelter me from the cool, penetrating breeze. Something about her presence, made me feel warm and protected, and before I even realized it, I was leaning back into her embrace.

Nodding my acceptance, I leaned back into her embrace. The world, warm and full of new possibilities, darkened around me, as I succumbed to my weakened state, but just before I lost consciousness, the sorceress finally introduced herself.

Her name was Imelda.

After taking me under her wing, I resided with her, in the small cottage, by the sea. Under Imelda's tutelage, I learned far more than just basic studies. She schooled me in chemistry and the arts, and even though I could not yet perform witchcraft, she guided me in mastering the making of potions and other bottled enchantments.

I was completely severed from the life I had once known. Believing the sea to be my grave, my family eventually forgot they ever had a daughter. My father, plagued by mental illness, eventually died, and my mother, still young enough to bare a son, remarried, abandoning our manner, at Cape Hope, to fall into ruin.

Years passed and Sorceress Imelda became more than just my teacher. Our relationship transcended the boundaries of friends or family. I fell in love with her, and the pain of my emotional wounds slowly mended. The desire to forfeit my life to the cold darkness of death completely departed my mind. Never had I known such happiness, until the day came, when it was, stripped from me, once again.

...

Opening my gold eyes, I was met with the familiar, moonlit darkness of my bedchamber. The hard, lean body of the Emperor was pressed into my spine, and his face was buried in my long, unbound, silver hair. I could tell, by his breathing, that he was asleep.

" _Another dream of the past?"_ I thought. The flashbacks seemed to be coming faster, now, as if they were leading up to some great reckoning of the past and future. Did it have something to do with this strange, dead world? Did Mateus experience them, too?

Turning slightly, in the despot's arms, I gazed up at the rift, in my ceiling, and stared upon the slightly obstructed view of the cold sphere of the enormous moon. The silver light trickled down, like a waterfall, and in the celestial, dust-speckled beams, a black feather slowly descended. Landing atop my talon-tipped hands, I took it, in my nimble fingers, and examined it. The out-of-place object resembled a raven feather yet far larger.

" _Angel wings?"_ I thought, absentmindedly.

Holding the feather in my hands, I could vaguely sense the presence of a cold, mako-infused stare, hiding somewhere in the darkness, as I slowly drifted off to sleep.


End file.
